


Mi Casa Es Su Casa

by Kara_J



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-11-26 08:10:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18178082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kara_J/pseuds/Kara_J
Summary: North refuses to believe Markus when he says Connor really is a deviant, so she goes on the hunt to gather evidence and prove him wrong.  What she finds, though, is a truth she must face, and she only has herself to blame for it.





	1. Chapter 1

North is proud of New Jericho, always knew she would be when they first established the plan to rebuild it (just maybe not as a ship this time).  Everyone goes there to seek salvation, freedom, and more so a use in this world after abandoning their programmed purposes. There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing another deviant in this city making their own choices and their lives happen the way they want to.

There’s one individual she doesn’t trust though: Connor.  He acts like he’s deviant, but after what he did (hunted them, lead the FBI to their home), there’s nothing she feels he can do to erase who he was made to be.  Once a hunter, always a hunter. He’s hiding – pretending – and nothing she says will convince Markus. He’s sworn that Connor’s one of them. She just can’t believe it though, when its been such short time since he fled the ship with them, jumped off only for the opportunity to survival so he can make a come back and take sweet revenge.

It’s a trick _.  It’s a damned trick!_

Regardless of Markus’ opinions, she’s determined to keep Connor away, has to for their safety, so North Takes it upon her own responsibility to deter him away from Jericho.   _He will not destroy this one, too_.

Flyers with encrypted directions to their new abode are torn down through his daily pathways.  She distracts other deviants he nearly encounters, taking their attention away from him so he knows nothing of them and they know nothing about him in return.  There can be absolutely _no_ communication for anyone to slip up and send him information she doesn't want him to have.  All it takes is one unaffordable connection to ruin this plan.  North hates being so social and dragging company along all day, but it’s a price somebody has to pay for their precious, precious lives that are still at stake as long as he freely roams Detroit.

Thankfully, it works.  Now that he has no knowledge of their new dainty shelter and has fallen into a routine she can easily manipulate, it’s time to gather evidence, really _prove_ his plot against them to Markus once and for all.  Maybe then their bold leader will see Connor for who he is.

...Damned if he isn’t one of the best actors she’s met.

His – their- day starts when he leaves a house in a small human community.  It’s a clever way to throw neighbors off. Earn humankind's trust and they’ll let things slide right under their nose.  He apparently lives in the house of an older man who serves as his investigation partner. Deceiving the very human he resides with takes sly to another whole level. Chances are, Connor changes his agenda when he isn't home, so she continues to trail him when he leaves.  

Connor slips into a car, not one of those automated ones, though.  He actually _drives_ it himself without the use of an auto-navigation system.  It's a vintage move, one that’s probably used to sway his human roommate. Easier to track too, luckily.

From what she can tell, Connor reports to the Detroit Police Department.  What better connection to keep than that when going under cover? It's easy access to sensitive material, including on those like herself.  He’s just lucky to have started there _before_ everything happened.  It’s what he was designed for.  It’s much harder to follow after him once he’s on their clock, though… hiding from police, standing side-line in homicide scenarios without getting noticed, its a challenge - a thrill- she’s actually missed.  It’s is turning into a game of dodgeball that rejuvenates her love to fight.

Most notably, its when he's by himself that she notices the small things come out.  On police duty, he's stern, diligent, attentive... not much difference from before the revolution.  Alone, though, when everything for the day is said and done? Connor fidgets, as if he's letting loose everything he held in. She doesn’t want to accept it, but it’s quite evitable: staying still in his own time doesn’t exist, and the notion shows when his leg bounces up and down uncontrollably when sitting, little tugs at his jeans and jacket as sign of ocd. And how he bites his lower lip when his dark eyes roam the surroundings, as if paranoid that someone is watching.  Well, technically _she_ is watching, but he doesn't know.  He's nervous, but she doesn't know whether to take it as a sign of guilt or anxiety.

The next day she trails him, Connor he actually has a form of entertainment: a coin.  North has never seen anyone as efficient with a round silver piece as Connor is, watching the trinket flip back and forth from one hand to another.  He barely has to move to catch it every time. The silver has him more satisfied than bobbing a knee. He actually has a smile on his face as it lands exactly in his palm as intended.  It's like watching a toddler with a new toy, pure bliss.

As she continues to keep distance between them on the sidewalk they’re cruising, North also notices the the slightest changes in his expression as he tries a fresh new, complicated trick.  The coin flips into the air and he brings the other arm up, hoping to bounce it off his elbow, but it doesn’t land as intended. It falls violently to the ground and rolls off into a bush. He swears under his breath-frustration- suddenly desperate to find it as he kneels instantly to the ground, shoving branches left and right.  

 _Shit, shit shit!_  

North takes advantage of the moment to peer out a little more, watching as Connor gasps and reaches deeper into the bush.  His search is serious. After some digging, Connor pulls out the now-dingy coin, brushing the dirt off of it and giving it a quick blow.  A sigh of relief escapes as he holds the piece dearly in front of him. Strange how attached to the tiny object he is.

The drop doesn't stop him from trying the trick again. The coin soars back into the air, bounces off his elbow, and as he does a reach around his back, takes it back into his hand, and returns it to the other, all in blindside.  North has to admit, she’s _pretty fucking impressed_ , and so is he , apparrantly.  A smile spreads across his face in great pride.

_He likes to stay busy…_

_Accomplishments make him feel good._

  


**_Likes…_** **_feels_** _…_

 

No, no, it just can’t be!  It’s difficult to accept, but she’s nearly convinced now in what Markus saw in the deviant hunter.  However, it has to be consistent, a proven way of life to be finalized as true and a handful of days isn't enough to show he won't relapse into machine mode right under their roof.  North reserves some of her conviction aside, determined that he cant, _wont_ , trick her, too!  Maybe he knows she’s following him and this is all just for survival.  It has to be!

The pursuit is becoming fruitless, though.  It’s the same every day. He leaves, does whatever tasks are necessary for the DPD (makes the most human choices there than she’s ever seen in and for both people and androids), doesn’t bat an eye at other deviants nearby that she recognizes from Jericho.  In fact, he kind of avoids them, and they avoid him in exchange, scattering away even when he hasn’t approached them. And lastly returns home once errands are finished. She even camped out in the neighborhood one night just to catch him during sun-down when everyone would be asleep, but he never left the old man’s side, never once stepped out in their slumber to pull any suspicious acts.

He’s proven it, he’s… _actually a deviant_.

On one last excursion behind his tail to confirm her brand new suspicion, the sun sets and he heads down town, making one last stop at a place she least expects: a park, and he has a dog with him, a very large Saint Bernard.  She certainly can’t follow him around in the open, lest becoming an obvious sore to his privacy and maybe get announced if the canine felt her intention, so she lingers in the parking lot, her car serving as a safe haven.

Connor has the dog on a leash and has just finished a friendly stroll along the local trails.  He kneels down, scruffles the fur on top of the animal’s head. The warm smile on his face as he talks to it like it’s family is all it takes for North to know his life, his independence, his _deviance…_ it’s all very very real.  She’s mistaken him all this time, silently accused him behind his back of something she actually knew nothing about.

Is there anything she can do to rectify her mistake?  Maybe he could join them in tomorrow's party, enjoy himself among his kind for a day and for once connect - as an android- as a deviant.  Connor’s made it to his car already, dog stowed away in the back seat, and he’s about to get in, too. There’s no time to wait, so North jumps out of the tinted vehicle, rushes to the driver’s side of his, and steps in front of him, blocking his way to the seat.  Now that North has his attention, though, she’s not sure what to say, so she blurts out the best she can manage.  “ _H-hi!_ ” It’s awkward as shit, but a lot better than “ _I followed you here!_ ”

His brows furrow in baffled expression as he responds, “…North.  Hello. It’s so strange, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

_...He still knows her name…_

It’s actually quite pleasant knowing Connor had never forgotten them.  That’s not something she wants to admit out loud, though, so she throws on a smirk and a quip in her voice as she answers, “you remember me, after all.”

“Of course.  How could I forget?  It’s been a while. How is everyone doing?  How are you doing?”

“I’m great, really.  Everyone’s….” With a sigh, she confesses, “Everyone’s doing good, too.”  Connor sends her a genuine smile at the news. It’s been long since the revolution and they haven’t spoken even once since.  “You know, with Jericho being back up and all…”

Connor pauses.  “So, they _did_ rebuild it.  I’d heard a rumor about it once before and wanted to see it, but…”  There’s a quiet, fallen tone in his voice and Connor’s smile fades.  From the drop in his eyes, it’s evident how the subject touches him. The mere name of Jericho drops every ball in the air she’d managed up till now.  It sends a wave of regret through her.  All this time, he could have…

No!  North can’t let it end this way.  The aura between them shouts disappointment, and she needs to fix it.  He’s tried to atone for what he did when he was a machine, used against their cause.  Now it’s her turn to be responsible and atone for her actions as well. 

“Listen, everyone there is having a party to celebrate it’s success tomorrow, and… well, I’d like you to join.  You saved so many of them, after all.” The actual truth is that it’s his place, too, and for once, North’s excited about the idea of his presence in the gathering, games, and fun.  She’s prepared to give all the welcoming support, and…

Connor slowly shakes his head, though, can’t even seem to hold a steady look into her eyes as he turns her down.  “I appreciate the invitation, but… I’m not one of you guys, never was."  He offers a quiet, hesitant laugh as he continues, "Besides, I'll just scare everyone away.  All the ones I brought from Cyberlife probably already moved on. But you…. _you_ made their lives possible after the war and created a beautiful, successful new home for them to go to, not me.”

“But Connor, you-“ North begins, but Connor interjects.  She forgets how to speak as his next words strike her with yet more of this other side she’s never seen before.

"-I just live for the law, North, I work for the DPD and look over Hank and Sumo.  It's all I've ever known since the revolution and it makes a difference in their world it's own way.  I'm happy for you and everyone at Jericho, but tomorrow is _your_ celebration, not mine.  Enjoy yourselves and don’t worry about me.  I’ll still be out there catching the bad guys.  Somebody has to do it.” He offers a half smile as he weaves around her and slides into the car.  Sumo nudges his shoulder with a head butt and a light whine.  “I gotta get Sumo back home, but maybe we can catch up later. Take care, North. I’ll see you around.”

North watches as he shuts the door, starts the engine, and drives away with one last wave goodbye.  His smile is sad, and yet it offers peaceful treaty.

That’s when the truth sinks in even deeper.  

_Jericho has always been home to all lost deviants... except for one._

 


	2. Always Room for One More

It’s been years since the revolution, at least a solid decade since the opening of New Jericho, and there’s something robust about life now that they didn’t have before.  However, just like the battle over the color of skin or who or what to worship, human kind generally holds it in their minds to both acknowledge what’s what in a hybrid human-android society, but hold their own opinions.  Even ten years can’t dissolve the differences they hold from each other, so not every member of mankind aims to conform. However, beyond the slowly diminishing controversy between human and android kind, there’s a buried sense of respect and acceptance, an agreement just well enough for life to persevere on the same land within both worlds.  

Neither are without their walls, though, and deviants will always have Jericho’s roof when in need.  The establishment finds great success in it’s own efforts.  No android is without a home, without a purpose – small or large -  nor without true acknowledgement of the validity in their very existence. 

As a member among leaders in their community, North holds an important image many look up to.  She’s a spotlight in the crowd, a “freedom bringer“ they call it, one of the first to fight for everyone’s lives back when the revolution started, so by day, she serves as mentor, as a storyteller, as an idol.  By night though, she enjoys her own time, usually catching up on television, movies, video games, mostly anything in the entertainment industry, even a little drawing time to time.  Markus has been a bigger influence on her than she thought. (And wow are his paintings simply magnificent!) 

Today isn’t too different.  Evening falls up on them, and North really needs to wind down for the day.  All the bustling has her energy a little low.  In the silent moment, she glances at the book in her hand.  Markus had just lent it to her, another hobby to add to her free time, one she thought she’d never pick up.

Lounging on one of the leather couches in the front lobby with a leg stretched out, she opens it up to page one.  Catcher in the Rye, that’s what the title reads.  Markus had recommended it when she had no idea what genre to dive into, so hopefully his suggestion is a good one.   

Before she can turn to the next page, though, there’s a heavy knock on the door.  It’s strange, deviants don’t usually show up at this hour.  North is still here, and still just as welcoming as she is in the morning, so she sets the book down on the cushion and strides to the entrance.  With a slight creak (they really have to fix the hinges soon), the door opens. 

She can’t help but to stand in surprise.  Lost at words, North recalls the last time they spoke.  “C-Connor?”

“Can I...”  He’s at a loss of words, the gears in his mind turning in thought as to what the proper question to ask really is.  “I-Is it okay to come in?”  The downward curve of his lips as he speaks and the emptiness in his eyes tell a story she’s all too familiar with; it’s a journey to the end of a rope, desperate to find another one to cling to, and past it a void beyond the tattered threads, empty of something essential to life.

Connor was so content when they met in the park years before, confident in his routine, but now before her is a hesitant mess.  He’s lacing his fingers together, his hair is falling into wavy locks, and he can’t seem to lock his gaze anywhere but to the ground below.  Slung over his shoulder is messenger bag, plump with what doesn’t appear to be professional documentation when there’s a sleeve of a shirt just barely poking out.

North opens the door wider, making a clear path for him inside.  “Of course!  There’s _always_ room for one more!”

A ghost of a smile appears on his face, just barely noticeable to see a difference in the blank he held a second earlier.  Once he’s inside and she shuts the door, though, it fades once more when his burgundy eyes flit about the place.  It must be strange, being here for the first time, a wonder she’s unfamiliar with when she’s one of those who built it in the first place.

“So what brings you here,” North asks as she guides him to the sitting area, moving her book aside.

Connor sits for a moment, silent as he blinks away the tears that threaten to swell up.  He gently sets his bag to the floor and fiddles a hand in his jacket pocket.  When he finally finds what he’s looking for, resting on a presented palm is a clean, shiny, gold police badge with the name “Anderson” written on it.   He doesn’t have to say anything for North to get the message.  It’s clear as the sky outside, and another star has just been added to it.

_Oh…_

The man’s image pops into her head.  Shaggy, grey hair, inquisitive eyes that could pierce your soul, a gruff dog by his side, and the crooked smile he wore when Connor was near by...  He’s the closest to family that Conno’rs known for all she can recall when she recaps what he’d told her.  _I work for the DPD and look over Hank and Sumo_.  If the old man has passed, and Connor has come here alone, to Jericho, then that has to mean… _oh, the dog too_.

“I’m so sorry, Connor… I know they meant the world to you.”

He still doesn’t speak as he nods his head, swiping away at a few tears he can’t seem to stop.  Why is he trying to prevent his emotions from flowing?  He’s deviant, he’s free, he should be allowed to express himself in any way he wants.  Maybe they haven’t spoken since that day in the park, only spotted each other about the streets now and then, but Connor’s not prone to emotional pain, and its purely unhealthy to hold it in.

“He left me his house, and all his belongings,” Connor musters through a wavering voice, “but I can’t stand to look at them right now, not when it’s suddenly so lonely.”

“What about the other officers?  You talk to them, too, right?”

“Retired.  Or moved.  Now almost everyone in the office is so new, and I’ve tried… but serving isn’t the same and they don’t understand me the same way _he_ did.  I can’t go back, not when…”

 

 _…when they see him as an android_.

 

North gets it, she really does.  Sure, they’ve made a lot of progress, but society isn’t perfect and will never conform into the glowing paradise both parties want so bad.  Leaning toward him, she wraps an arm around his back and over his shoulder, hoping it doesn’t cross one of the boundaries he held so sternly long ago, but she sees no sign of rejection.  He leans in as well, letting her pull him into a tight hold.

It’s then that he lets loose and truly releases the grief in his heart.  “I can’t do it anymore, North, not without them,” Connor chokes through an outcry as his led spins a violent shade of scarlet.  Her shirt is getting mildly soaked and he lightly beats a closed fist on her other shoulder, but that’s okay.  “They’re all I knew in life, North.”

The wonder of why the ex-deviant hunter suddenly trusts her so quickly invades her curiosity.  There’s really not much she can say to ease the pain except for offer a place to stay.  Hank may have been a human, but he was the one positive figure Connor clung onto in this fucked up world.

It also makes her wonder: would he have trusted any other deviant that answered the door instead?  Part of her feels like he’s lucky to have a familiar face, that he might have hesitated otherwise had she not spoken to him so long ago.  It took over a decade and an unfortunate tragedy, but North dearly wishes the detective finds a sense of home again with them, and if not that, then at least a little bit of hope.  Humans don’t live for an eternity like androids do, and for Connor, it means another brand new start.

They stay there for as long as his grip stays tight on her.

“We’re still here for you if you need it, Connor.  That invitation I gave you?  It never expired, never will.”  North gets an egging feeling the words needed to be spoken, needed to be heard.  Although Connor doesn’t speak in return, his nod acknowledges the nurturing intuition that pangs her heart as they sit still.  Maybe _this_ is the reason Markus left the kindred consoling up to her. She understands, she knows from experience, knows what to say and when.  

Staggered breath calms down between a last few slowly falling tear drops, leaving their visible trails of desperation on his face.  North’s certain Connor must be exhausted after such an emotional outbreak.  The bravery of even just dropping his pride in strength and coming out to this haven is a call for help in itself.  If he’s anything like most torn deviants, a serving of thirium should refresh his energy a little.  It’s a good source of replenishment and a courteous, hospitable ‘welcome home’ notion that’s always lifted spirits around here.

She springs up from the couch, claps her hands together in determination, and catches his eyes while he’s found enough interest to look back.  “I’ve got just the thing for you right now, so don’t move, okay?  I’ll be right back!”

With a quick trip to the kitchen, North takes one of their nicer glasses out of a cabinet, opens the fridge, and pours the freshest batch she can find.  Connor coming to Jericho is a special occasion and it can’t make her any happier that she’s the one that gets to greet him there.  _Maybe this should call for another party_ , she silently debates.  Something to make up for all the years they lost and serve as a welcoming that will prove to him that nobody there actually has any fear of him like he’d assumed.  (The fact is that they actually started asking about him.)

When she returns though, thirium glass in hand and ready to serve, Connor’s not even awake anymore.  He’s stretched across the couch, long legs tucked in in order fit between the arm rests, maybe even as an act of protection – He’s never opened up to anyone here like this.  His grip holds strong onto Hank’s badge, something she doesn’t dare try to pry out of his hands right now, lest she lose a bit of the trust he’s given her.  He’ll eventually relax and she can return it to his belongings then (she just doesn’t want it to fall on the floor and get scuffed).    

What’s most noticable about him in particular at this very moment, however, is that he’s _shivering_ , and it certainly couldn’t be from distress – he’s already overcome that phase of tonight’s heavy cry.  Sure, it’s a little frosty outside, but weather’s never been a thing to necessarily hinder the well-being and comfort of androids.

A slight touch on his cheek reveals quite the opposite.  The cold sweat sends her senses into shock- she’s never met an android that felt the cold like a human, until now, that is.  Is it because he’s an advanced model?  It doesn’t make any sense that Cyberlife would create an android that couldn’t survive a little snow.  There’s something about him, his deviancy, and his life she doesn’t know about.  Until now, everything about him has been a mystery, and almost all of it still is.  He’s stayed in the dark, keeping his own life among the human race intact and doing what was right in the moment.  It never allotted a time to acquaint with each other. She’s going to have to make an effort to stay in his life now.    

Fate must be on their side, because conveniently beside his bag is something else she hadn’t noticed before: an old, worn blanket neatly folded up.  The edges are lined with tattered strands that almost look like intentional tassels, and if she’s judging right by the faded hue, it must have once been a bright red.  On the corner displayed on top are the initials “C.A.”

No matter, he must have brought it for a reason, and the chills on his skin scream for warmth.  North sets the cup of thirium on the table beside them, gently picks the woven cover up, careful not to make a noise, and unfolds it.  In one soft, quiet motion, she spreads it on top of him and takes an extra moment to tuck a few sides in to block the cold air from outside.

Even in his sleep, Connor finds instant comfort with the piece of material hugging him, as told by the yellow led on his temple shifting back to a calm shade of blue.  He’ll be okay on the couch for tonight, and maybe he’ll even find his refreshment waiting for him when he wakes.  Connor’s come home at last and she couldn’t be any happier to have him there.

 

 

 


	3. Fates Collide When the Heart Yearns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More than one realization comes to the surface when Connor has news that North least expected just two years into his service at New Jericho.

 

Two years have passed and North still never tires of Connor’s presence.  She still thinks about how wrong she was to hold him back so long ago, but he’s here and that’s all that matters.  Never has an assumption so bold happened again.  It turns out his contribution to New Jericho is more than she’s ever estimated it would be.  The security system is more than enough to stop almost any threat, and their network protocols can block virtually any hacker that might try.  Connor was so particular to insist on the upgrades, and while they aren’t so bothered by outside forces, it feels better anyway.  Community members feel better, too, or at least their more relaxed routines say so.

It was also great news to all he saved from Cyberlife.  None had forgotten him like he claimed they would.  The excitement in their eyes when they saw him under that roof for the first time was overwhelming, and while he may not have known what to say, he welcomed their open arms and their energetic greetings.  The title of “deviant hunter” transitioned into something more important; he was a savior, a warrior of the revolution.

For North, though, his being here represents something more than another service rendered.  His presence, though it be belated, has developed into an underlying trust with each other’s very souls.  He’s always the first one she goes to, and she’s the first one he always goes to.  It’s odd how the very one she judged so harshly has turned into her best friend so quickly.

 Every now and then, they escape to the dojo to practice sparring.  With her under his wing, it’s even become his goal to teach her some moves that come with his nifty combat programming.  Usually the most agile one (as he was designed for it), he proves to be a challenging opponent, but North relishes every minute of the fight.  In return, she teaches him Jericho’s ways, and maybe a few of her secret spots when she wants seclusion from it all.  (He’s even used them time to time)

Connor even has his own desk.  Quickly integrated into their little niche, Markus hadn’t hesitated for even a second to give the detective anything he needed.  A computer to operate on, unlimited access to the database, and permissions to any services he needed; Connor has it made with instant trust from their leader, a connection he swears never to abandon.

But something bothers North lately, or perhaps it's more about something silently hounding Connor’s mind.  Sometimes she sees his attention divert for a moment, as if he’s staring out into a void, and calling his name out doesn’t bring him back.  She’s asked, but this time, he won’t talk, and all she can do is pretend it’s okay in the hopes he’ll speak up one day. “Just thinking,” he’ll answer instead.  But _it’s too much_ thinking that makes her realize it’s out or the norm.

It starts when Connor goes everyday to the memorial of their lost ones, also where Hank’s badge rests in its own glass cubby.  While Hank was human, he couldn’t have been more of a member of the android community than he’d already become when he stood up for their rights.  Once his eyes were open to the essence of their life and the compassion they are equally capable of, their battle became his, too.  That alone earned Hank great respect under Jericho’s roof and a spot for a token to celebrate his life.  

Connor stares at the shiny piece, less in grief, but more in contemplation.  Tears are replaced with silence and the gears in his head couldn’t get any louder if they tried.  She really doesn’t want to bother him when he’s so deep in his thoughts, but there’s something about what that badge represents that he’s determined to dwell on.

That’s not all Connor does out of the usual lately.  He drones the news constantly, keeping insistent tabs on the slow, but increasing injustice that threatens to crawl back between humanity and androids.  She feels it, too, if not through the passion in his eyes, then through tragedies that could have been avoided: abuse in human-android households, unsolved murders, reports of deviants who’s run away, but hasn’t showed up at Jericho’s doors yet.  They go less and less resolved, increasing the number of mysteries circulating within Detroit, puzzles that humans can’t possibly have a full understanding of, else they’d be closed cases by now.

Today he’s doing it again, and she can’t stand the mystery of it anymore.  They’re best friends, he should’ve trusted her by now with whatever is haunting his mind.  North stands at broadcast room, leaned against the door frame and facing his turned back with arms crossed against her chest.  “Alright, Connor, talk already.”

Connor spins around in the cushioned desk chair to face her, brows furrowed in confusion as his dark eyes meet hers.  “Talk already?  I don’t understand, what about?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Connor.”  

His gaze shifts to the most straight, serious look he ever displayed.  “I’m head of security.  You know I have to keep up with the events going on,” Connor exclaims as he motions behind his shoulder towards the glaring monitors.  

While part of this is true, he’s still covering for something, and she _will_ call him out on it.  “Bull shit.  It’s more than that, and you know it.  What are you hiding?”

“Why would I have anything to hide?  I’m just doing my job.”  The straight expression falters just a tiny bit, but he retains it.  He’s likely aware that if she keeps going, he won’t be able to hold it any longer.  They know each other better than anyone realizes and lies aren’t something they keep between themselves.

It’s her turn to wear an icy stare, shooting cold daggers back.  “We used to go out and train and actually have fun time to time.  These televisions are all you look at now.  I can go and ask Markus instead if you want…”  North says, raising her hands in the air like scales weighing each option,  “…or you can just tell me.”

“Okay, okay…” he surrenders.  Connor sighs and his eyes wander to the floor by his side.  “North, there’s something you need to know,” he starts, catching her inquisitive gaze again, no longer cold.  “A… certain decision has come up.  One that’s…”  He opens his mouth to finish, but no words come out.  He turns around for a moment, and rolls four fingers back and forth on the counter in front of him before running his hand through his dishevelled hair.  

North’s nerves rise as she realizes the silent conclusion her friend couldn’t finish.  “You’re going back to the DPD, aren’t you?”  A moment passes and his silence answers her question well enough.  It’s only been two years and he’s already contemplating his importance here. 

He turns back around.  With a stern look, he confirms her suspicion.  “I’m sorry North, but too much is happening out there.  Without someone to tame it down, it’ll all fall back to the way things were before.  

“Why now, though?  You’re really important around here, and the officers in the station, they…”  ... _they don't understand him like everyone at Jericho does_.  She wants to fight the will he’s chosen, chain him to her wrist so he has to stay here or drag her along everywhere he goes.  The humans don’t deserve his service, never have.

However, North can’t deny the truth.  He’s right, he’s probably known it when he’s stayed busy studying essentially every angle from the dilemma he can (judging from the amount of time he spends in this room).  Connor serves as a balance between their worlds: he’s the one deviant among both halves of society that can achieve the highest degree of inter-relation, the only android to have truly understood the concept of working amongst mankind, given his experience with Hank.  Sure, he belongs among them at Jericho, but at the same time, his satisfaction lies within serving the law.  It’s what he was created for, an urge that can’t be erased no matter how deviant he is.  It’s reflected in his passion when he looks her in the eyes.  _It’s his mission_.

The tears in her eyes has to be a fluke.  Crying over one measly member leaving is something she never fathomed as a reality, and of all things, over the one who’s _just_ joined them after years of patience… Since when did his presence become this important to her?

He stands up from the chair, walks to the door frame she’s refused to move from, and swipes the first tear that falls down her cheek away.  “I’ve done all I can for Jericho right now.  But that doesn’t mean my time here is over, North.  We can still see each other, you know.  It doesn’t even have to be for business.”

“I should to be there for you, though, and I can’t do that when you’re out chasing criminals.”

Connor smiles and rests his hands upon her shoulders gently with a small pat.  “You did more for me than anyone could have.  You gave me a home and a sense of peace when I needed it.  Otherwise, I’d still be out there, lost.”

It’s such an honor to hear those words from his mouth, really it is, and it almost makes her want to tear up again, but North has a reputation to keep up, so she holds her lips tight and sends a glare to kill.  “You promise you’ll come back?”

“Of course!  You’re the first reason I’m even here, afterall.”

With a quip in her tone, she answers, “good!  Because if you don’t, I’ll punch that pretty face of yours so they won’t want you back and you’ll _have_ to return to me!”  

Connor tries to maintain an unamused look, a single brow raised, but when North’s lips threaten to come up to a smile and she quickly forces it back down, he lets go and busts out into laughter, making her break her facade and fall into a chuckle, too.  

“ _THAT’S_ the North I know.”   

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Cleaning his desk out has never felt so right and wrong at the same time.  Connor knows Jericho will be okay without him for a while.  Everything’s set up and he’s already briefed a few of the big wigs about the ins and outs of the system, even created a manual and left emergency contact information just in case they find themselves stuck in a rut.  As he flips through a few documents, there’s a soft knock at the open door.  Pausing, he takes a glance to see who’s graced him with their presence.

“Hi…”

“Hello North,” he greets with a smile. Of course she would be the first here to see him off.  Hands folded behind her back, she quietly steps inside, seemingly hesitant of what else to say.  It’s been a fun ride with her in Jericho, and he’s going to miss it.  (Not that it’s over, no.  He’ll still be here time to time to tune things up.)  Hopefully she cherishes their journey just as much.

She returns the warm smile back and looks into his eyes.  “Better leave room in that bag for one more thing,” North exclaims with a tilted head and raised eyebrow.  “After all the hard work and patience I spent getting you here, you didn’t think I’d send you off with nothing, did you?”  

Connor isn’t sure what to say, but he knows if he doesn’t accept the gracious offer, his head will be next.  North strides toward him and when she’s close enough, she takes a hand out from behind her back and presents something a lot more nostalgic than he expected: a hand-carved wooden picture frame with an image of him and Jericho’s head crew (Markus, Simon, Josh, and North, of course) huddled together.  

“As a token of your experience.  We can’t have you forgetting about us, now.”

The newly-indicted police-detective grazes his eyes on the photo for a moment, recalling the moment they took it.   _You’re home now, so a family portrait has to be made_ , he remembers Markus exclaiming, insisting they celebrate immediately.  What a fun night that was, and how glad Connor is to be able to look upon it, even when he’s not going to be under their roof anymore.  

“Actually, if you don’t mind, there’s a present I’d like to give to you, too,” he returns, only now he can feel the faint blue warming onto his cheeks.  North looks into his eyes, inquisitive, and their souls connect in that special way that no one can touch.  Two years has brought them closer to each other, so much that it’s as if they’d spent a lifetime together.  

North’s brows furrow curiously.  “Oh?”

Connor takes a few steps forward till they’re just a foot apart, never breaking their half-curious-half-determined-gaze.  The butterflies in his stomach tell him not to do it, not to risk the chance that just maybe she may not like it, but the pang of potential regret won’t forgive him if he doesn’t.  

North opens her mouth to speak and Connor knows he won’t get any better opportunity.  It’s now or never.  Grasping firm hands onto her shoulders, he pulls her in till there’s no space left between them, leans down, and gently presses his lips against hers.  Time stands still for a moment as they stand there, tantalized and connected both physically and emotionally, and he’s not sure if the awkward pause translates to solely approval or shock, or both.  

Aware of the seconds ticking once more, he lets go, takes a step back, and tangles his fingers together, awaiting a response.  When she stands still, doesn’t answer right away, a pang of regret begins to bubble into this thoughts, concerning that maybe he’d just ruined everything they built.   _Maybe he’d mistaken their friendship for more than it was all along_.  

“S-sorry.  Just, I… I shouldn’t have done that without your permission!  It’s just that you’re such a special part of my life, but if you don’t feel the same way, then…”  There’s not much more he can say, as his awkward silence says the rest.  She’s smart enough to understand his message, though it still leaves him a nervous wreck.  

North laughs under low breath and shakes her head slowly.  “Such a nerd.  Just shut up and kiss me again, already.”

They connect again without hesitation, passion erupting in their soft, light grazes over the shoulders and up and down arms till they eventually hold each other in a firm brace.  This is a moment Connor wishes would never end.  It’s a shame it took waiting till the last day of his presence here to realize where his heart lied. 

  
  



	4. There and Back Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The epic conclusion of the series, Connor and North are able to establish their routine and connection once more, becoming the unit they were meant to be.

North has forgotten what it was like when Connor’s not here and today's an unwanted, harsh reminder when she’s suddenly at a loss for something to pass the time.  Sure, she’s always been private, but he kept her busy learning new things, making jokes (mainly at his expense), and just overall surprising her in ways she never expected from a stiff detective like himself.  The real Connor made things interesting for her, threw the days for a loop, and had a sass that countered her little quips like no other could.  

The boredom sets in quickly - _too quickly_ \- so she grabs a remote and clicks a television on in the broadcast room, curious as to what duty he saw in the outside world to leave Jericho.  Everything is commercial after commercial though.  A quiet, withheld attempt to poke at the human on the screen plays in her mind, but mimicking salespeople isn't near as entertaining as when… oh fuck it all!  Tossing the remote on the counter, North slouches in the same chair Connor used to dwell in, choosing to vegetate the day away.   

Fifteen minutes pass and she decides... fuck it all.  This shit’s boring as hell; how he managed to patience to keep track is beyond her.  Where’s that box of matches Markus just bought?  Ever since she was caught striking them all in one sitting, stick by stick, watching them futilely burn in a single sitting (and yes, she leaves the blackened wood chips underneath her seat just to agitate him), they’ve been hidden away, and their leader _won’t_ tell her where they are.  

With a sigh, North stands up, promptly spins around on her heels and nears the door to leave.  It’s all becoming too much of a memory she needs to bury for now, lest Markus and the crew start asking if she’s okay and that’s not something she wants to explain.  

:: _Tonight on Detroit News!  The local police force welcomes back a familiar face!::_ the television begins to blare, catching her attention back to the screen. _::Here to join us is the now-deviant prototype RK 800 model, Connor, to serve the city once more!  With androids now creating their own fates and lives, you could have done anything you wanted.  Tell us, what exactly made you decide to return to your beginnings after such a long hiatus?_ :: the reporter asks, turning to her friend.

Connor’s face is on public television, and she isn’t sure if it’s a blessing or a curse, for him or for her.  It’s scary seeing him out in the open world like this, that reckless, bold Connor...  Still, golden eyes glue to the screen as she immediately takes a spot on the edge of the seat again, leaning forward to assure she doesn’t miss a single inch or second of the program.

The interviewer holds the microphone towards Connor as he answers.  :: _After enough time away, I realized that the city, both androids and humans alike, needed a more advanced intermediate link like myself to achieve a true understanding towards co-existing better.  It’s clear that it’s still my mission and always will be, no matter what.  No human or android will be left behind in justice, the true purpose I was established for._ ::

 _That cocky little shit_.... But a brave one...  Hearing those words, that fight for deviant rights and a dream of peace in both worlds, makes North proud of the experience they gave him.  The ex-deviant hunter once stood off from them, now he stands with them, even if he’s not under the same roof.  

:: _Do you have anything in particular you plan on bringing into the police force since the events of the revolution now that you’re in control of your own fate?_ :: they ask, curious as to what’s so different about this new round of employment.

:: _Absolutely.  With the rise of unsolved mysteries, it’s my hope to find answers and bring closure in those issues for both kind alike._ ::

The chief of the staff steps forward, shakes Connor’s hand, and presents a framed certificate. When her friend steps forward to accept it, North notes the gleam of the gold on his badge.  “Anderson”, it reads.  Come to think, it looks almost exactly like… are her eyes deceiving her??  Recalling back to when he arrived at Jericho, she remembers the piece in his hand that silently explained his sudden, unexpected turn up.  The name on the shiny piece, the initials on the worn blanket… 

It all makes sense, why he kept coming back to the badge...  Connor needed to carry on Hank’s legacy.

The police chief continues, though.  :: _As the first android to officially complete all the standardized examination and training program, we welcome you back to the team!_ ::

The acquainted detective- now also an officer- shakes hands with the man, smile beaming on his face once more.  :: _Thank you, I’ll do my best!_ ::

Admiring the picture on the screen, it’s funny how the detective suddenly looks so delicious in a uniform, its fabric complimenting his every shape and curve.  If only he’d had it on when they shared that departing moment in his office.  Maybe one day he’ll show up here in oddly attractive attire on some hot mission to catch someone nearby (though he’s welcome to come take her in… dear RA9, since when did a police uniform look so good?!  She’s used to fleeing from them!) 

No!  No, no!  She can’t be caught blushing like this, so North slaps the thought away, shaking her head and finding the focus to pay attention to the story once more.  

:: _Well, it’s great to have you with us!::_  the news reporter continues, marking the end of his time slot. _::We look forward to seeing the justice you bring forward once more._ ::   The camera fades away as the program moves on to another story.  

Once, it was a fear to see him step back into danger, but now there’s something pleasant about Connor’s reinforcement, something so ensuring that it almost puts tears into her eyes, but she swipes them away before they can spill out.  Is it his smile?  Or perhaps it’s because she knows he’s _doing what makes him happy, fulfilling his mentor’s path_.  And while he’s always welcome to Jericho at any time, he’s back to what fulfills his soul.  

 

Hank would be proud.  

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Being stationed at this desk is pure irony at its best.  Connor reminisces exactly how the clutter was laid out.  A Japanese maple tree, a photo of the police crew, sticky notes tacked everywhere, a box of donuts, and that infamous coffee cup ring that’s still stained into the wood to this day.  Nostalgic.  Well, okay, maybe not exactly _clutter_.  He remembers exactly where Hank’s name plate sat, too.  In truth, every piece was - and still is - important in their own way.  The desk is empty now, save for the memories.   

That’s about to change, though.  The first piece he lays down on the empty wood is the framed photo of the Jericho crew that North gifted him, and he’s got the perfect place for it: exactly where Hank kept _his_ crew photo, against the wall.  A Japanese Maple tree will definitely be one of his next investments.  The chief has promised Connor his own name plate soon, they’ve just been too busy with all the cases popping up to put in the order.  

Otherwise the hustle and bustle throughout the station is exactly what the newly indicted officer _and_ detective remembers from the first days here.  The only difference is a set of fresh new faces instead of… No, Connor can’t think about that, there’s more important things to do than mourn.  

The routine feels so familiar, and yet so strange at the same time when he’s grown accustomed to working in Jericho.  Humans stand now where Androids - deviants- once did.  Fight for _justice_ takes over the prior agenda in Jericho for establishment, a department Markus can handle just fine on his own.  From what he can tell, not many of the androids originally programmed for placement in the DPD remained, must have fled the job for goals and places entirely different, and he doesn’t blame them.  Looking at the things that once held one back isn’t generally a pleasant recollection.

For Connor, though, it’s different.  No matter how deviant he is, it’s programmed into his very fiber and being to protect, to serve, to face the dangers that most aren’t made for.  He lives for challenge and purpose.  If there’s no mission, no goal to work towards, there may as well be nothing at all.  He’s made for the mission, by default and by choice.  It’s his way to cope with all the additional worries of the world.  

An officer clothed in casual jeans and a button down shirt barely covered with a police jacket approaches Connor’s side.  With a lean, tall figure, shaggy brown hair, bright blue eyes that scream hope in a divided world, it seems Connor isn’t the only new face the DPD has seen in the last month.  “H-Hi!  Sorry, I’m new here, transferred from Midland” the young man exclaims.  “Name’s Jake, by the way, I’m your new partner.  Nice to meet you!”  Jake extends his hand, waiting for the deviant to take a hold of it.  

With a firm shake, Connor accepts, meeting the welcoming between the halfway. “Hello, Jake!”  

It’s certainly the first time he heard about getting an investigation partner.  Although it did work out better overall when there were more than one set of eyes.  Seems this human’s the one who will be following him around this time.  So this is how it felt for Hank, minus the hate?  The shock that the old man felt, so compelling enough to rage into Fowler’s office to petition an objection, only the world is different this time.  Connor has no remorse in the partnership so heavy in his heart to give Jake the same hard time Hank first gave him.      

“By chance, which desk should I use?”  The question rouses Connor out of thought, giving pause to the recollection of past days with Hank.  

With a pleasant, welcoming smile, the deviant lightly gestures with his hand to the desk across (also an irony, the same one _he_ used to operate at!  It’s like living the past all over again from a different perspective.)  With the tables turned, it’s _Connor’s_ opportunity to make this experience for Jake, and for the world, a good one!.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

With the crime rate in the city between android and human finally beginning to descend, it's easier to find a break, easier to allow him a moment away from the drill of 12 hour work days.  It’s been a few weeks since he last visited Jericho in the midst of all the business flowing about in the station.  

Jake’s picked up on so much, so quickly.  With the boy by his side, workloads have become lighter and focus can shift on tasks outside of crime scenes, too.  It’s not a demand necessarily required of him, but the sheer choice of volunteering has also greatly reduced the load on the DPD overall.  Connor wants to help in any way he can, especially when it’s something he was _built_ for and something he loves.  

It doesn’t mean the detective hasn’t been in touch with his own, however.  Every now and then, Connor becomes anxious to know how they are holding up in Jericho, if the system he left the facility with is still running well and suitable to their needs, if anything has happened that beckons his specialty.  Still feeling _useful_ to his own community, even in the tiniest ways, helps the separation anxiety that attempts to peep through time to time. 

Jericho’s still home away from home.  

Today’s shift is relatively shorter than usual.  He has a meet up to get to, well deserved time for himself after all the hard work that goes into keeping the world spinning peacefully. Now that Jake’s on his way out, Connor goes through his usual mental checklist.  

 

Shut down the computer?  _Check_.

Keys?  _Check_.

Punch out?  _Check_.  

 

“See you tomorrow!” Connor exclaims Gavin’s way with a smile plastered on like the sun shining outside.  The farewell earns an accusing squint, and while it used to intrigue him in a sense of desire for improvement, the reaction merely amuses the android now.  A part of him thinks Gavin knows, too, and that maybe it’s just their silent, mutual form of communication they can both get on board with, has been for years.  It’s a consistency Connor can count on when everything else around them keeps changing;  _Sass_... and eye for an eye, and maybe even a spark of competition.

Annoy Gavin. _Check_.  

Once in the car, Connor’s too eager to make it to the park, he’s anxious to find out what the surprise is that North so enthusiastically bragged about.  Three o’clock on the dot, she exclaimed.  And he’ll be there, too.  

Since they reconciled after his departure and that unforeseen kiss, their friendship has grown more than expected.  In their regular communication, despite working in two different facilities, it came to her that home wasn’t home without him there.  She needed him by her side, as a break from a day’s hard work greeting and leading, and admitted for Connor that he, too, needed company, an easy fact to agree on.  Hank’s house would be too lonely with no one to talk to.  It’s always held a family vibe since Connor moved in, a compliment of the environment he didn’t want to lose. 

And so it became North’s home, too, away from Jericho.  

Finally, Connor arrives at the park, locates a convenient parking space, and shuts the engine off.  They’re supposed to meet at the bench by first mile marker on the trail, so he rushes to said promised place, passing other joggers and more curious than ever why North felt the need to reveal her surprise _here_ of all places.  He wasn’t even allowed a trip home to change.  

It’s right around the corner in no time, and sure enough, he spots her auburn braid, hanging down, long and centered down her back today.  The wisps of bangs flow in the breeze and her image is softer than ever.  They haven’t even spoken yet and the trip is already worth it.

“Hey North!  Finally got off work,” he starts, coming up behind the bench to wrap strong arms around her shoulders and offer a sweet peck on the cheek.  Connor zips around to sit by her side, but before he can settle down, said “surprise” catches his deep brown eyes instantly.  

A small dog lies down between her feet, and upon mutual notice, gives Connor a curious gaze as it tilts its head just a bit, perked in interest.  

In a merry gasp, he kneels down in nothing but joy.  The tiny canine steps carefully towards Connor and is welcomed with an extended hand.  His heart is stolen, captured by the dog as it sniffs each finger cautiously.  Finally, an assessment is established and Connor’s deemed friendly company when it nudges a head against him.  “North, he’s adorable!  Even looks just like Sumo!”  It’s true, every patch of brown, black and white look almost exactly alike in comparison.  “You’re going to grow up to be _so big_!” he cooed to the animal, smile spread across his face.  

“She, actually.  And I know. Saved em’ from the pound, purebred apparently” she replies, pride gleaming in her wide grin.  “The house will have plenty of space for him, too.  I don’t know much about Saint Bernards, but I did some research.”  

Now the puppy stands on hind feet, paws secure to Connor’s hands.  He willingly takes the dog into his arms, stands up, and nuzzles its soft fur.  “You’re coming home with us, girl!”  It barks excitedly in return, as if it understands every word he’d said.  

North smirks, half in pleasure, half in suspicion.  “How about we take our first walk in the park all together, then?”

“That would be simply amazing,” he delights, perked in a way North has never seen before.  

She beams delightfully back, standing up to unravel the long, red leash wrapped tight around her hand.  “On we go then!”  The first to lead them on is their newest pup, eager to explore the beauty and curiosities of nature.  And so they follow her lead, joining the walk of discovery.

It’s been a rough journey through death, mourning, learning new routines, abandonment, and realization of truths and needs, but somehow they’re finally whole again, one unit full of bliss they never fathomed they’d gain back.  

 

 _And to think it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t approached him on that fateful day_.  

  


 

 


End file.
